


Sprout: Enter The Bull

by ValAishlym



Series: Bloom [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Romance, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:56:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValAishlym/pseuds/ValAishlym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're too blind to realize you're being selfish by being unselfish."</p><p>Iron Bull reflects back on his relationship with the inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Augmented Interest

**Char: Iron Bull & Val'Aishlym, mentions Dorian & Val’Aishlym**

**Summary: Iron Bull reflects back on his relationship with the inquisitor.**

**Sprout: Enter The Bull**

**Augmented Interest**

Iron Bull grunted as the familiar burn of the alcohol travelled down his throat. He looked around the tavern with a small frown. It had grown quiet since Corypheus’s defeat – hell it was quiet just before his defeat too.

The Inquisitor.

He couldn’t get the elf out of his mind. He was an odd one – nothing like Dalish from the chargers at all. He’d ask her about it but she had shrugged saying Dalish clans weren’t all the same.

Bull could tell there was something troubling the elf. He just couldn’t really understand what it was… _or who it was_. He had tried asking Solas about it but the mage was trying to figure it out himself too.

The only person who would have known what was up with him was just as clueless. That didn’t spell right and Bull had knew it.

When Cole had joined the Inquisition, he had noticed something odd. Cole would always say what everyone was thinking or feeling but not once had he ever uttered anything about the Inquisitor.

It was strange.

He asked Solas about it. He’d asked whether it could be some sort of magic preventing it but Solas had no answers for him either. He had said maybe the Inquisitor had specifically asked the spirit not to say anything which is why he never said anything. When asked about it, Cole wouldn’t respond so it strengthen the theory.

‘Besides’, Solas had said to him, ‘a mage would only have the power to do such a thing and the inquisitor is no mage.’

Iron Bull called bullshit on that. There was something off about the Inquisitor, he’d once said to Cassandra. She had agreed with him but told him not to press him for answers. It’d most likely undo all the things they’d worked up to.

That could have been. The stress. The stress and weight of having the entire world’s fate on his shoulders. Bull knew that had to be some hard shit. Something no one was even considering. No one considered the mental strain it was putting on an elf who’d not set foot outside the forest- to be suddenly thrust into human politics and governing. He was going mad on the inside, no doubt.

Iron Bull sighed, rubbing his forehead. On top of that…his relationship issues. That was not something Bull was happy to touch upon – especially as it somewhat involved him. Oh yes…he could remember all the shit that’d gone down in the past. He could _never_ forget.

Everything around him reminded him of the small elf and their short somewhat-of-a relationship. It wasn’t a _real_ relationship. More like…friends with benefits, he liked to say. He wasn’t into mushy emotional crap – mostly because he didn’t really know _how_ to deal with it.

That was probably why their ‘relationship’ was doomed from the start. He wanted sex but the elf wanted something more solid…or was just not interested in sex at all. He’d realized some ways down the line that the elf was a virgin. That was one of the reason he hadn’t continued to pressure him into anything – okay he tried his hardest not to pressure him into anything but his hormones betrayed him from time to time.

The elf probably thought he was too pushy which was why he shied away from the relationship. That’s why when he called it to an end, the Bull wasn’t so surprised about it. Sure, he would have loved to continue it but he knew it was pointless. He wasn’t what the elf really needed. He understood that and wouldn’t be selfish and ask the elf for more than he could give.

After their relationship ended, nothing really changed between them – well except for the fact Bull couldn’t steal kisses from him anymore…or touch him in _that way_. He was content with being his friend and being there for him when his _mysterious_ lover wasn’t.

_Mysterious lover._

Iron Bull snorted. Wasn’t more mysterious than the idea behind dragons being lizards.

Dorian was so transparent. It was hilarious. Bull took joy in messing with the mage. It was funny watching his feathers being ruffled. He wasn’t the only one, of course. Varric was in on it too. Iron Bull smirked.

The first time the elf had truly caught his eye was his exchange between him and the mage in Haven. The way he told the Tevinter off and stormed off was hilarious. The second time was when he was practicing throwing. He’d been mad at something, Bull had assumed. He spoke a bit to him but noticed the elf hadn’t really been paying much mind to what he was saying.

…

..

.

Iron Bull watched with slight fascination as the Herald held knives, chucking them with increased hostility at the practice dummy. It wasn’t until his last knife was thrown – which he threw so hard, it took the head of the practice dummy straight off. Iron Bull walked over to him whistling. The elf turned to regard him with a blank expression. “Pretty good throwing arm you got there. As expected from an archer, I guess.”

“You are….Iron Lung, right?” Bull raised an amused brow.

“Iron _Bull_.” He corrected. He gestured towards the dummy. “Probably going to need something stronger to be your practice dummy.” Iron Bull snickered. He noticed the elf’s gaze kept trailing up.

“It helps to imagine the dummy is someone I want to kill,” The elf said absently, bringing his gaze back down to Bull’s face. He’d been staring at his horns.

“I assume you’re imagining it is Dorian.” Iron Bull snorted. He saw how the elf always glared at the mage’s back. He wondered why the elf harbored such animosity towards him. Was it because he was human? He didn’t seem to hate Cassandra that much and, from what he heard, she had held him prisoner.

“Just human,” the elf shrugged, his gaze returning up. “Does it hurt?”

“Hm?” Bull raised an eyebrow. “Does what hurt?”

“Horns.” He pointed to his own head. “It looks like it forced its way out of your skull…”

“Well, it hurt when they were growing. They don’t hurt now.” Iron Bull shrugged. The elf looked like he was going to say something more but stopped himself. He nodded before turning away. “Nice talking with you, Herald.” Iron Bull chuckled.

“Val’Aishlym.” The elf mumbled. “Farewell, Brick Bull.”

“ _Iron_ Bull.” Iron Bull rolled his eye then watched the herald walk away with a smirk. “Interesting…”


	2. Augmented Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ....Delicate situations....tiresome....

**Char: Iron Bull & Val'Aishlym, mentions Dorian & Val’Aishlym**

**Summary: Iron Bull reflects back on his relationship with the inquisitor.**

**Sprout: Enter The Bull**

**Augmented Determination**

Bull would be lying if he said nothing changed after their little trip to the Fade. Bull grunted as he threw back his drink. There was something….dark…hooded about the Inquisitor. He hadn’t commented on what he had saw – Bull didn’t expect him to neither. He himself hadn’t let anyone what he really saw – just let them know what he _didn’t_ see and what he had _preferred_ to see. Bull looked up when he noticed someone sit down across from him. Well…speak of the devil. The inquisitor sat there, staring down at the table.

His expression was blank as usual. Bull wondered if he had ever expressed any emotion. He didn’t remember seeing the elf react at all in the Fade how he expected him to. Maybe he hadn’t seen anything represented or maybe it was just spiders after all and he wasn’t afraid of them.

“You want to ask me what I saw,” he mumbled. “You’re dying from curiosity, aren’t you?”

“You’re starting to scare me with the creepy ‘I know what you’re thinking’ shit. You sound just like – what’s his name – Cole.” Bull took a sip of his drink and eyed the elf warily as said elf laughed. The laugh was hallow – didn’t sound like he was amused. It just sounded like he needed to make some sort of noise. “Yeah, you’re right. I am dying to know. You know I didn’t see no damn spiders…” Bull shuddered. “I saw…a bunch of the people I had to kill – The Tal’Vashoths…”

“I saw arcane warriors,” the elf pushed some of his hair behind his ear and stared down at the table. Bull perked up. Well that was unusual. He didn’t take the elf to be afraid of arcane warriors. “I was almost over it…until that…” he shuddered. “They used fire magick…”

What was with him and fire anyway?

Maybe he should have suspected his fear would be something dealing with fire – the elf avoided anything to do with it and seemed to tense whenever he was around it – in the hall, at campsites, in the field…anywhere, he would tense and glance at it with shaded eyes.

“W-“

“I can’t.” the elf cut Bull off. Bull frowned as he stared at the silent elf archer. Did he mean he couldn’t bring himself to speak more or did he mean it was something he couldn’t tell him?

“You know…if you talk about it, it’ll probably make you feel better,” Bull tried. The elf snickered.

“You? Telling me to talk it out? A bit hypocrital, don’t you think, after making me beat you with a stick.”

Bull threw his head back and let out a loud laugh. “Touché.” He took a sip. “Talk about it with the other elf, then? Solas?”

“Hmmm…” Val’Aishlym seemed to brush off his question, staring up at the ceiling now.

“How about a drink – take your mind off this shit for now?” Bull suggested. He could tell the elf needed some sort of distraction.

“Sure.” He mumbled.

…

..

.

The elf had been hanging around him more than before – not that he wasn’t thrilled about the attention. He didn’t know exactly where he stood with him…which was frustrating in more than one way. He’d brush close to the elf, the elf would either not notice or didn’t know what it meant. Either way, it was frustrating as shit. The elf…was not something he was used to. He was used to being able to predict people, knowing what the hell it was that they were thinking – Well not on Cole’s level. He was a people’s person, of course.

“You okay over there Tiny?” Bull’s gaze snapped up from….where ever he was looking at to regard Varric. The dwarf was standing near the fire giving him a somewhat worried look, his eyebrow cocked. Bull waved his hand dismissively.

“You’ve been rather distracted lately, what’s on your mind?” The dwarf walked over to him and sat down.

“The usual – vints, demons, ben-hassrath….et cetera, et cetera…”

“Doesn’t seem like the usual to me,” Varric raised an eyebrow. “You spaced out mid-fight. Call me crazy but…normal thinking doesn’t usually let you daze off while a sword is being swung at your face.” Bull snorted. He looked around then turned his attention to Varric.

“Thoughts about the Inquisitor.” Bull shrugged. Both Varric’s eyebrows raised.

“Oh? What _kind_ of thoughts? Anything I can use in-“

“It didn’t go that far yet,” Bull laughed. “I’ll tell you when but not just yet. But yes, me and the Inquisitor.”

“An item?” Varric asked, surprise clear as day in his voice.

“Yes and no….” Bull crossed his arms. “It would seem he is interested in….but then again….he doesn’t seem all _there_.”

“What do you mean?” Varric frowned. Bull raised an eyebrow.

“Please tell me you noticed how odd he acts. I know I don’t know much about the Dalish…but this can’t be how they _all_ act?”

“I met a few Dalish from a few different clans….” Varric crossed his arms. “They’re not the same at all. In fact, they’re almost completely different people. I’m sure Solas would probably back that too – well actually…maybe not….” Varric hummed.

“Why can’t Cole read him?” Bull asked with a frown.

“The kid said he could only hear people who needed help.”

“Really?” Bull furrowed his brow. “Maybe the Inquisitor isn’t as trouble as I thought he was.”

“Hmmm.”  Varric looked up. “As troubled as a guy with the entire weight of the world on his shoulders….” He looked at Bull. “I’m pretty sure no one actually asked him how he was holding up so far…how the incident in Haven affected him. He could be bottling up his emotions and we all know how badly a bottle being forced open can end…..”

“Hmmm…” Bull crossed his arms. “I might have something in mind to help…”

“If its anything juicy, relay the details to me,” Varric winked. Bull laughed.

“I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

“Be careful, though, Tiny.” Varric frowned. “If what you say is true…Sunshine might not respond….too well….or sanely…”

Bull nodded. He already knew that.


	3. Augmented Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is there to fear but fear itself?

**Char: Iron Bull & Val'Aishlym, mentions Dorian & Val’Aishlym**

**Summary: Iron Bull reflects back on his relationship with the inquisitor.**

**Sprout: Enter The Bull**

**Augmented Emotions**

“I grew up somewhat of a pariah of my clan,” the suddenness of the proclamation threw Bull out of his thoughts. He and the elf had been sitting quietly next to each other in the tavern. He didn’t really know what brought on the sudden topic but he was eager to learn more about the silent elf.

“Really now?” Iron Bull turned his attention to the elf. He was staring up at the ceiling.

“Yes. I never really engaged in conversation with the clan, I normally just kept to myself.” He mumbled.  “My father was a hunter. My mother was the former First before she passed away.”

“Was your mother a fire mage?” Iron Bull asked. Maybe that was the reason he hated being around fire. If his mother was a fire mage, fire must have painfully reminded him of his deceased mother.

“No. She practiced Spirit and Storm magick.”

“You have any siblings?” Bull asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. A brother,” he stared down at the table.

“He a mage like your mother or…?”

“Complicated.” He mumbled. “He likes to throw knives.” Iron Bull raised an eyebrow. What did he mean by complicated? “We had our own little group. Just the three of us,” there was a small grin on his face but it was gone just as fast as it appeared. “My brother, our cousin, and I.” He looked back up at the ceiling. “We hunted together.”

“Sounds like you three were close.”

“Yes,” Val’Aishlym looked at him. “We were inseparable….I miss them sometimes…”

“Why don’t you write them? Or…Maybe you can tell Cullen and the others to search for where your clan is so you can visit them?” Bull suggested. Val’Aishlym looked slightly startled. He turned to look at Bull.

“I can’t.” that was all he said before he stood abruptly and walked away. Iron Bull raised a confused eyebrow.

“What was that all about?” Bull looked to his left to see Krem approaching him and staring after the inquisitor. “You sure do know how to run them off fast, huh, boss?”

“Not as fast as you, of course.” Bull mumbled.

“You okay, boss? That comeback was oddly stale.” Krem raised an eyebrow.

“’Lot on my mind,” Bull grunted. Krem smirked and Bull rolled his eye. “Not like that, leech.” Krem chuckled.

…

..

.

 “Boss?” Bull rounded the railing in the Inquisitor’s quarters. The elf had been missing for a bit, it was starting to worry the advisors. Bull volunteered to search for him and he had finally found him. Bull raised any eyebrow. The elf was laid across the bed with just his sleep pants on staring up at the ceiling.

“Bull,” Val’Aishlym mumbled, staring at the Qunari with half lidded eyes. Bull had to surpress the shudder of desire that suddenly shot through him. The elf was laying there, a picture of sensuality. His hair was spread around his head like a silver, silken halo. His arms were spread out across the bed while his legs dangled off the edge of the bed. He had sat up slightly to look at Bull then laid back down to stare at the ceiling.

“You went MIA on us boss. What’s up?” The Qunari walked to stand in front of the elf. Said elf sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He stared up at Bull.

“I like you,” he suddenly said. Bull’s eyebrows rose. “I like you because you’re not a human.”

“What about Dorian?” Bull backed away from the elf until the back of his legs found the couch. He sat down with a grunt and relaxed a bit.

“I don’t know….” The elf mumbled. “Did I ever tell you…that I can feel other’s emotions?” Bull’s eyebrows rose.

“Really? Are you secretly an elf spirit?”

“No.” Val’Aishlym snorted. “I can’t explain it without telling you everything…something I don’t want to do,” Val’Aishlym sighed. “When we were in the Fade…After I had gotten back all my memories…I almost couldn’t even continue…” So that was what this was about. The elf was still troubled over their trip to the fade.

“I remember you saying something about arcane warriors using fire. Was that what you saw afterwards, then?” the elf nodded. “Did all this feeling other people’s emotions happen after all this?”

“In a way…yes…” Val’Aishlym mumbled. “The emotions….they trigger memories….memories that I had kept buried – that I didn’t want to remember….” The elf curled in on himself on the bed. “The despair…the betrayal…the anger…the hate….the helplessness…the madness….the self-loathing….the uselessness…the emptiness…” That sounded like-

“You mean everyone’s fears?” The graveyard was compiled of everyone’s darkest fears….He hadn’t seen one for the elf. He assumed the Inquisitor didn’t really fear anything. “I never saw a tomb for you…” Bull recalled. Val’Aishlym sat up.

“Of course not. At the time, I feared nothing. The terror demon took my fears along with my memories…” Bull furrowed his brow. What if the terror demon had taken something other than his memories from him? He’d have to talk to Solas.

“What do you fear?” Bull asked. He knew it couldn’t just be the arcane warriors. Something else had to be troubling the elf. He saw the elf tense all over. After a while of tense silence filling the air, the elf spoke again.

“I like talking to you, Bull,” he mumbled. “Because you’re not human.”

“Uh…yeah…”

“Please don’t change my mind about you,” There was a dark warning in the tone of voice he used. Maybe he feared humans? It’d explain why he was so tense all the time – they were surrounded by humans. Bull stood up.

“Everyone was looking for you. I think they wanted to speak to you in the war room about something. I tried to ask what it was about but they just gave me this grim look and just said to come look for you.” Bull frowned. “I don’t think the news they bare will be pretty. I’ll see you later, boss.”

“Goodbye.”

Iron Bull spared the still elf one last glance before he walked down the stairs to exit the room. When he exited, he almost ran over Dorian. The mage was glaring at him. He rolled his eye. The human had been silently glaring holes into him and it was starting to grate his last nerves.

“Let him rest,” Bull said, causing Dorian’s eyes to narrow even farther.

“What?”

“He’s a bit worn out at the moment. Come back tomorrow if you need to talk to him.” He said. The mage didn’t budge. Bull sighed inward. “I know you hate me but bite your tongue for this one moment and trust me on this. The boss is in _no_ condition to talk with anyone.” The elf was likely would skewer anyone human that started speaking. He was a bit out of it right now and tense. He doubted anyone of the human persuasion would be safe in that room with him – mage or not.

“Move.” Dorian grit out. Iron Bull shrugged, walking around the smaller man.

“Suite yourself,” _your funeral_. He mumbled under his breath. He’d have to seek out Solas and ask him a few questions…

 


	4. Augmented Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The selfish claim to be unselfish while the unselfish claim to be selfish. Who is correct?

**Char: Iron Bull & Val'Aishlym, mentions Dorian & Val’Aishlym**

**Summary: Iron Bull reflects back on his relationship with the inquisitor.**

**Sprout: Enter The Bull**

**Augmented Reality**

Bull sought out the bald elf in his usual spot, in the rotunda under the library. As soon as the elf spotted him, he sighed and dropped his head. “I’m guessing you’re coming to me to question the Inquisitor’s behaviors.” Bull raised an eyebrow.

“I’m assuming Dorian has been consulting you, then?”

“Your worries are understandable, but I have no idea how to explain his behaviors.” Solas frowned. He was hesitating, that much Bull could tell. The mage knew something but he just didn’t want to say it out loud.

“Hey, if it’s something private, I won’t pry.” Bull shrugged. Solas took on that look again.

“…” Solas opened his mouth but nothing came out. He closed his mouth before opening again: “Sometimes it is better to pry.” He looked down at the table. “He holds a deep depression within….its locked deep….keeping that locked up for so long, it will not end well.” Bull sighed, crossing his arms.

“Hopefully he won’t do anything too reckless…”

“You mean purposely allowing the enemy close so he can be hit?” Solas frowned. Bull stood straighter at that.

“What? Why would he-“

“Why do you not ask him?” Solas asked with a frown. “I have asked and have gotten the answers. You are not human, I am sure he would tell you.”

“What about Dorian?” Bull asked. He felt like he was just repeating himself over and over again.

“What about Dorian?” Solas responded back. “He is human….” Solas sighed. “Val’Aishlym…he….fears rejection.” Is that what he feared, in truth? He feared being rejected….that must be why he doesn’t talk about himself. He’d rather for it people didn’t like him for no reason rather than not liking him because he is himself.

“And the emotionless creepy feel your feelings stuff?” Bull asked.

“He is a tranquil mage.” Solas frowned. Well that wasn’t something he was expecting.

“W…what? But…he expresses emotion from time to time. It was to my understanding that tranquil mages lacked that ability.”

“I thought the same. That is….until he asked me whether or not touching the Fade could reverse the effects of being tranquil. It would seem it, in some ways, does. He cannot call upon magic but some of his emotions have been restored.” Solas crossed his arms.

“He said he felt other people’s emotions…Do you think he’s been drawing on their emotions to remember how to feel them?”

“That was my theory.” Solas nodded. “It would seem he uses people as….let’s say channeler or so. Whatever emotion he feels, he’ll seek the person whose emotion matches what he needs. I believe whatever emotion he felt from Dorian is why he didn’t avoid him – he is human after all.”

“I don’t understand – how did all this even happen? How does it all work?”

“You both are obviously bursting with questions.” Solas had an irritated scowl across his face. “You both come to me to ask questions because you don’t want to _‘bother_ ’ Val’Aishlym. Has it occurred to either one of you that if he hasn’t told you, he doesn’t want to or doesn’t know you _want_ to know? You're too blind to realize you're being selfish by being unselfish." He made a shooing motion. “I do not wish to speak on the matter any longer. I’ve spoken more than I warrant. If you want to know more, ask him yourself.” Bull grunted but nodded.

“Right….thanks…” Bull left the rotunda with more questions then he’d entered with. He doubted Val’aishlym would tell him anything.  Sure, he wasn’t human, but he wasn’t an elf neither.


	5. Augmented Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listening and Hearing aren't actually the same thing, is it?

**Char: Iron Bull & Val'Aishlym, mentions Dorian & Val’Aishlym**

**Summary: Iron Bull reflects back on his relationship with the inquisitor.**

**Sprout: Enter The Bull**

**Augmented Agony**

Iron Bull was making his way out of the main hall to head over to the tavern. Things had been quiet for a long time and the air around the entire hold was so thick and stifling, he doubted he could nick it with his great axe – and he just got finished sharpening the damn thing some 2 hours ago.

He was just getting ready to go down the stairs when a commotion from the other side of the grounds took his attention. He turned to see Dorian with an agitated looking Cole pacing back and forth in front of the mage. He furrowed his brow in both interest and confusion, deciding to see what was up over there before heading to the tavern. When he got there Cole had begun to speak.

“I asked you to help the hurt. To help because I could not help the hurt. I could not set him at ease….if you did not know or want to help the hurt, why did you accept?” Cole asked frantically.

“What’s going on here?” Bull asked. Dorian glared at him.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, I assure you,” Dorian grit out. Cole turned to Bull with a frown.

“I asked him to heal the hurt but he did not! He did not heal the hurt, he made the hurt _hurt_ more!” Cole turned to Dorian. “Pain….so much pain…I like the color red….bright, dark, thick, _not water._ It brings comfort as much as it unnerves….so many memories with the color….Is this too deep? Is it too shallow? Confusing emotions…the pain helps the pain go away….the red washes the feeling away….” Iron Bull didn’t like the implications of what Cole had just said. And if it was the feelings and thoughts of who he _thought_ it was – the feeling those implications brought on struck Bull with such a nauseating feel, he felt sick pushing at his throat.

“Dorian, what the hell did you do?” Bull demanded. Dorian gave Bull an incredulous look. A look, so badly, Bull wanted to deck him in the face for.

“What _I_ did? What _I did? What_ I did?” Dorian shook his head, laughing. “ _What did I do_ he says!” Dorian laughed again, walking around both Cole and Bull. Bull glared at his back.

“What a dick…” Bull grumbled.

“I should not have asked him to help…” Cole was staring at Bull now. Bull raised an eyebrow, silently urging the spirit to go on. “Trapped….crossed between the duty I feel towards home and the duty of heart….shall I allow temptation to consume me? Shall I allow what I know isn’t allowed to be allowed?” Cole looked down. “His thoughts and feelings are almost as muddled and confused as Val’Aishlym’s.” Cole looked back up at Bull. “Burning….Tears….He cries….the scent of spice….the scent of _him…._ it burns….I want to forget….make me forget….” With that, the spirit disappeared.

“What a shit situation….” Bull sighed, running an exhausted hand down his face. “I’d signed myself to _not_ deal with the emotional crap – and still ended up in it….” He sighed, forgoing the tavern to see what was up with the inquisitor.

…

..

.

What greeted Bull when he got to the Inquisitor’s quarters was not something he was expecting. Granted, he was actually _relieved_ that what he was expecting wasn’t actually happening, the fact remained he was still surprised when he made it to the elf’s room. Said elf was on the floor, his back towards Bull, tinkering with something. He had tools, papers, and books spread out in front him – knives of different sizes, screw drivers, pieces of cloth, needles, thread, buttons, pieces of scrap metal and wood, and a hammer. What should he say? How should he say it? Should he ask the elf if he was okay? How should he startup a conversation? He was silently glad he didn’t have to do anything for the elf did it for him:

“It feels like you’re shouting at me,” the elf looked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “You are staring.”

“Sorry…” Bull grumbled. He took a seat on the couch. “Whatcha up to over there, boss?” The elf bit his lip and turned back around.

“….Stuff…” he said quietly. Solas’s voice suddenly pierced the Bull’s mind, urging him to ask questions. How would he know which questions he should ask? What if he just put the elf in a gloomier mood?

“So….” Bull started lamely, cursing himself inwardly.

“Do you think he will like this?” his voice sounded so small and unsure, Bull didn’t think he’d ever heard him sound like that. The elf had stood up and turned. He held his arms out and bull looked at the small, fist sized, figurine in his outstretched palms. Bull was speechless. The figurine was beautifully crafted – it was a peacock from the looks of it. The body was carved beautifully out of what looked like copper – but on closer inspection, it was out of ironbark. The tail of the peacock was splayed to show all of its vivid blues, greens, and yellows. He saw that the each individual stalk of _feather_ had been a piece of metal to hold it in place with the cloth being weaved into tiny holes of the stalk. “I…thought….he might like it…his…did you know his family name means peacock? I was reading about it….a-and…I didn’t know what a peacock was so I found all these books on creatures and…He gave me a nug-“ at this he looked at the bed, making Bull follow his gaze. On the pillows of the bed sat the pink plush he was referring to.

“I don’t know anyone who…could really craft such things,” Bull returned his gaze to the elf who was looking down. “I…remember watching my brother make wooden figurines of the animals of the forest…I tried to copy – somewhat…” there was so much pain behind his crimson orbs, it _hurt_ to look at. Bull was unsure how the tevinter mage would take it. He wanted to reassure the elf but knew he couldn’t.

“I think it’s perfect.” Bull decided. He was rewarded with a small smile. The elf’s smile was gone just as sudden as it appeared.

“You’re nice…” the elf suddenly said, causing Bull’s eyebrow to rise. “I like being around you...I have…the strong desire to kill everything around me….but being around you slightly suppresses that.”  Bull blinked at the admission. _Definitely_ on his list of things he wasn’t expecting the elf to say.

“Oh really?”

“I said…to you…I do not like arcane warriors….” Val’Aishlym whispered. He walked closer to Bull and sat the figurine gently on the couch. What he did next surprised the Bull even more than his words. The elf had straddled his lap and laid against his chest. “I do not….dislike them…because I fear them.”

“But didn’t you say you saw them in the Fade?”

“They were there because they used fire….I….do fear Fire…” Val’Aishlym looked up slightly at Bull before burrowing his face in his neck. “Did I ever tell you…that….I used to be a mage?”

“No.”

“You don’t sound surprised.” It was a statement not a question. As was his next spoken word. “Solas.”

“Yeah…” Bull hesitated before asking “Were you a fire mage?”

“No. I practiced Storm and Spirit,” he was whispering now.

“Like your mother?”

“Yes.” He pulled away from Bull to look at him. They stared at each other before the elf spoke again. “I have a twin. His name is Da’Saeya. Little Saeya. Our father’s name is Saeya, our mother Va’Lym.”

“Was he a mage too?”

“Yes.” Val’Aishlym laid his head down. “We had 7 mages in our clan – it was too much, too many….the keeper said that we weren’t safe with so many.” He sighed. “My mother was a First. She was safe….She was worried, both her children were mages. She would have to give up one or both. She didn’t want to. She made us promise not to use our magic. We agreed.” Val’Aishlym mumbled something before he spoke up. “He was 7 when his magic awakened. Mine came when I was 9…

“Our mother trained with us. I liked Storm magic….Hers was so bright…pretty…sparkly….like Dorian’s.” _Was that why he was attracted to Dorian? Dorian had shared the same style of magic his mother had._ “My brother liked her Spirit magic. It was green…so bright…it was warm too…almost like fire but safer. We trained so hard…We concealed it for so long…no one even knew…” Bull felt Val’Aishlym sigh. “They caught wind…The shemlens…They always find a way to ruin something good…I hate them…but I forgive them….my mother always said it wasn’t their fault they were ignorant, they just didn’t know how to handle reality – the truth of their actions, their lies, their deceit…she says they drown in their own greed and self-loathing, but instead of taking it out on themselves, they find someone else to blame – to make the pain lessen…so they can forget….”

“The shems were templars…Well trained, I guess. We fought back – we fought….she fought…she didn’t want anyone to take us…we were her life – her legacy….” Val’Aishlym’s breath caught. “Did you know my nickname was Lymal? My cousin called me it once in front of her. She always called me Lymal. It was nice. She liked the nickname…I liked that nickname.” Bull was slightly confused at the sudden topic switch but took it all in stride. It must be painful for the elf to remember all this.

“I had forgotten….” The elf whispered. “I had forgotten her….her smile…her laugh…her smell….her warmth….” He sounded choked. “I forgot everything…everything about her…was gone…blank….when I touched the Fade the first time, it came back….it hurt…to…it hurt to look on and not realize what it was I was looking at….to forget….so much…I stared and stared and stared…but the image…the woman…I didn’t know who she was…I didn’t realize I was looking at my mother….slowly it came back…it came back…it hurt to come back…it hurt…it felt as if I were being ripped apart.” He took a sharp intake of breath. “I thought I was dying…I felt….It hurt…so much…cold dread…dark and panicky…it hurt…” Bull wrapped his arms around the elf silently. He tensed at first before relaxing.

“My brother likes to throw knives…” he switched topics again. “He was really good – better than me. My father trained him. He liked to…he liked close combat more than ranged…He was an arcane warrior….the Second. My cousin…she knew… she knew what we were but said nothing. She trained my brother. She was an arcane warrior too. She liked Blizzard magic. It was too cold for my brother, so she didn’t bother teaching him. He didn’t like the cold….he liked the warmth that was spirit magic. He liked mother’s magic. I liked mother’s magic….her magic was like her smile…her presence….warm and inviting…safe…”

“We were in the forest. The forest….deep…a little ways from the camp….far away no one could feel but close enough to be safe. Father was there…he…he…I liked father….he smiled a lot….he was proud of us…he always said so. He always said he loved us and that he was proud of us…so proud…” he trailed off lightly. “…proud…so very proud…his boys…” he trailed off again before continuing.

“We practiced barriers again. She said it was really useful…very important….We practiced hard that day. We were a bit exhausted at the end. Mother was proud….her smile wide…her eyes shining….she was happy, content, proud, joyful….then it happened…the shems…they came…they took….they took everything away….they yelled and shouted….angry and hurtful things spouted….there was so much….fire….I…don’t know where it came from….it was everywhere….my mother…

“I heard screams a-and I smelt….my father picked us up and ran…my brother was crying…he was screaming…he was hurt….my father slid to a stop, put us down, he had his weapon out…he was shouting…angry…there were tears in his eyes….where is mother? Why wasn’t she with us? Why couldn’t I see her? Why couldn’t I smell her….sense her…where is she? Father, where is she?”

Bull looked down to see the elf’s eyes had glazed over. He was there but not there – probably reliving the hell of that day.

“He is yelling at the shems…he is angry…tears…my brother is scared…he is clutching my arm…it hurt when he touches my arm…” he was silent for a while. “Did you know the Dalish abandon young mages when they have too many mages within the clan? What if I had continued to pursue magic, would I be cast out because I wasn’t good enough? Would I have to watch my brother be cast out because I was good but he wasn’t?” Bull ached for the elf. There was so much pain in his voice, in his past. It hurt him so much, it didn’t even seem he could concentrate on what he was saying. His memories flowed from mind to lips in such disorder, it was hard for Bull to keep up. They fell into silence.

“I like talking to you Bull…” the elf whispered. “Your thoughts are loud but your lips sealed…you ask though…I like when you ask…I feel when you listen you are actually hearing me…” the elf pulled away from him. The two stared at each other. Bull hadn’t really noticed their close proximity until the elf’s nose touched his. The two stayed like that for a while before the elf spoke up again. “I like you Bull…I like you because you’re not human.”

“Well, isn’t that just grand.” The dry drawl caused Bull to freeze and slightly jerk his head. Both Val’Aishlym and Bull turned to see Dorian standing there with an irritated frown. “If I knew I would have walked in on this, I wouldn’t have took you up on the invitation to come. I came for an explanation and I guess I got it.” Well shit…that wasn’t good, was it? The elf didn’t seem the slightest put off – then again _could_ he even express that? He gracefully slid from Bull’s lap and picked up the peacock. He held it out to Dorian and the mage angrily looked down at it. He smacked the figurine out of the elf’s hand, causing it to drop and break. Bull abruptly stood. “If you _hate_ humans so much, why have you been leading me on? Was it so you can test out what it’d be like to sleep with a _shem?_ ”the mage spit out with such distaste, causing Bull to frown.

“Dorian,” Bull warned in a low growl. The mage was paying him no mind.

“You’d always comment on how _fascinating_ the differences between the elven and human body were. I didn’t really think much of it until you spoke about Qunari’s with the same fascination. I can’t believe I _loved_ you – that some of the readings I found on the Dalish were actually true.” He laughed humorlessly. The elf still hadn’t looked up from staring at the broken figurine. “Disgusting, lustful creature. That’s what the books said. I doubted the authenticity of the book – now I’m being to doubt my own doubts!”

“Dorian!” Bull snapped. “That’s enough!”

“And _you!_ ” The mage was glaring hatefully at him. “ _You!”_ there was so much hate burning behind his eyes. Bull frowned. The mage couldn’t get anything else out. He turned back to the elf but Bull figured his next words were aimed at both of them. “The lot of your races are a plague brought upon this word.”

“You take…” the elf spoke up. His voice was thick and choked. He looked up. There were tears in his eyes – something Bull had _never_ seen before. “You take,” he growled. He began to jab a finger into Dorian’s chest to punctuate every ‘you take’. “You _take_ and you _take_ and you _take!”_ The elf was shouting now. “You take but give nothing back. You yell and you scream – you’re angry and you’re hating. You hate and take and scream and yell at everyone but yourself!” he hissed. “You blame and you blame but putting the blame on others will not change the fact it is _your fault_!” The elf was glaring up Dorian who glared back. “You say my People are a plague but it is _your_ people that _always_ plunges the word into darkness! Your greed and your hate and your deceit – it is your faults that cause your suffering but you blame and take and yell and scream at others….” The elf backed away. “I _hate_ humans.”

“I think you’ve made that quite clear.” Dorian narrowed his eyes. “But do you not understand how hypocrital those statements you’ve just so proclaimed. They are the _same_ to which your elven kind have done – continue to do.” The punch came to a surprise to both Dorian and Bull. Bull made quick work of grabbing the elf up before he could land another hit.

“We do not take that which does not belong to us!” the elf was screaming now. “We take from the shems that was taken from us! You shems are what is wrong with this world!”

“I think you should leave,” Bull grunted. He was having a hard time keeping the flailing elf in check. If he let the elf slip, he was pretty sure the elf was going to kill Dorian. Bull didn’t even look as he heard quick footfalls on the steps then the door opening and slamming shut.

“Vivienne said that love is warm and safe and fuzzy…” The elf had went slack in his grasp. “That it was a dizzying sensation…that you’ll feel hot….you’ll feel like you’re on fire….” The elf was shaking. “…he was warming and inviting…he felt like home…like mother…I lost everything…they took everything…” his breath was catching, his voice choked. Bull sat the elf down on his feet and turned him around. A sob was released from him. “They destroy everything they see…they take and take and take but never give back….Solas said that love is hard and hurts sometimes. He said that if the love is strong enough, it will survive any trial…he said…he-he said that it was give and take…He-he…said I would be okay…he-he…I thought that was what we had?” He was asking, looking up at Bull. “He took and I took…he gave and I gave…he was warm and safe…I thought it was enough….I…” He interrupted himself with another sob. “I don’t like this feeling…it hurts…” Bull pulled the elf into him and sighed. The elf clutched at him, quiet sobs racking his body. “I don’t understand…I hate humans…all of them…but I don’t hate him…”


End file.
